


Human

by Philosophizes



Series: Bad Decisions Series Backstory Fics [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-02
Updated: 2013-09-02
Packaged: 2017-12-25 08:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/951099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philosophizes/pseuds/Philosophizes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Nations turned human</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human

The muzzy-headed feeling of waking up, of being unsure where you were, what had been going on; of being vaguely interested in the answer but not really caring, completely detached from any sort of urgency- it wasn’t a feeling Ludwig was very familiar with.

                But here he was, half-sitting up in bed, trying to keep his eyes open as, for no discernible reason, he woke up in the early, early hours of the morning.

                As his head began to clear he did a quick check for what could be wrong.

                Was Feliciano still beside him?

                He was, huddled under the blankets, half on his pillow, half on Ludwig’s. Ludwig gently pushed him back onto his side of the bed while he ruled any of the physical needs- water, toilet, food- that could have woken him.

                Was there someone else in the house?

                Ludwig sat very still and listened; but there was no sound of movement- either a stranger’s, or Gilbert hunting around in the kitchen or killing time when he couldn’t sleep by watching the television on low volume.

                Concerned now, he reached out to his people, his lands, trying to find what had gone so wrong that it could wake him, but not be immediately apparent-

                Nothing.

                He shivered and nausea hit and he tried again but still _nothing;_ and he fought the urge to run as he got out of bed and went to the window and there was Berlin, right where it always was, with lights and traffic and buildings and most importantly _people-_

                Ludwig did his best not to think as he waited for his phone to turn on; and nearly jumped when his call to the Chancellor’s office connected and the sharp ring tone broke the quiet. He ended the call immediately, not wanting to cause undue commotion for anyone who was still awake and working.

                He glanced over at Feliciano and left the room to head down the hall to his brother’s door.

                It squeaked as he opened it.

                “Gilbert?” Ludwig asked quietly.

                Prussia’s sheets were twisted up around him, and he slept with his back to the door.

                Ludwig stepped inside and closed the door again before going over to the bed.

                “Gilbert,” he said again, louder. “Gilbert-”

                He grasped his arm and tried shaking him a little.

                “G- _Gilbert-_ ”

                Ludwig’s voice broke and he blinked rapidly as tears formed; he couldn’t handle this he _couldn’t-_

                He crawled into Gilbert’s bed and clutched at him, ear pressed against his brother’s chest to hear his breath and heartbeat, trying to calm down.

                Gilbert stirred, waking just enough to wrap his arms around him.

                “What’s wrong, _bruderchen_?” he mumbled. “Nightmares?”

                “I, I-”

                Ludwig shuddered.

                “Lutz-”

                “They’re _gone,_ ” Ludwig whispered. “Germany is still here but it’s _all gone-_ ”

-

                When Feliciano got up in the morning, Ludwig was huddled on the couch in a blanket, haunted and scared; and Gilbert was having a screaming match over the phone with someone.

                He froze in the doorway, wavering, then knelt in front of the couch and took Ludwig’s hands.

                “Ludwig-”

                He was trembling minutely, even when Feliciano squeezed his hands tighter.

                “Ludovico are you sick-”

                The gesture Ludwig made couldn’t really be called a head shake, but that was completely irrelevant to Feliciano at the moment because Ludwig had looked at him to do it and his eyes were horribly _empty._

                It scared him.

                “ _Deutschland_ -” he started to say, panic rising; but that one word caused a spasm of terror across Ludwig’s face and before Feliciano could apologize or ask what was wrong or hug him and burst into tears because _clearly_ Ludwig was hurting and everything felt _wrong_ about whatever-this-was, Gilbert gravely insulted whomever he was screaming at, hung up, and stormed into the room.

                His expression twisted in anger when he saw the other Nation there, and shoved him away from his brother. Feliciano went sprawling, and the momentary throb of pain on top of the fear and the confusion and hurt at being treated like that tipped him over into tears.

                “What’s going _on_ what’s _wrong-_ ”

                Ludwig was looking straight through him, making no move to help or talk or calm Feliciano’s tears and all that did was make him cry harder.

                “G-Gilb-”

                Prussia shot him a nasty look that morphed suddenly into something akin to recognition.

                _“Where are your borders?”_ he snarled furiously.

                “Wh-”

                _“Where are your **borders?** ” _Gilbert demanded again, advancing. “Did _you_ take them?”

                Feliciano scrambled backwards across the carpet.

                “Gilbert-”

                **_“WHERE?”_** he roared.

                _“Where they always are!”_ Veneziano screamed frantically as his back hit the wall. “They haven’t changed why would they change _stop it_ you’re acting _scary-_ ”

                Someone banged on the door and Prussia stopped, looking up towards the noise. Feliciano curled up against the wall as he went to answer it, trying to will himself not to cry in front of whatever guests had shown up.

                Gilbert left to answer the knock but down the hallway, the door slammed open and suddenly Prussia was backing quickly into the room again, a crazed-looking Alfred chasing after him. He caught him by the collar and shook him.

                “Oh my God dude you’ve _gotta_ help me how do you do it HOW DO YOU FUCKING DO IT-”

                Canada grabbed him from behind and dragged him off.

                “Al-”

                “You _have_ to tell me Prussia!” Alfred begged, struggling to free himself from his brother’s grip- and failing. “ _How do you do it;_ how do you live _every day_ in Berlin and not feel the _people-_ ”

                Canada glanced nervously at the other Nations in the room.

                “Alfred, you need to calm down-”

                “Calm down? _CALM DOWN?_ ”

                Alfred punched his brother in the gut, and Matthew jerked at the force- but it didn’t send him flying, it didn’t make him curl up on the floor whimpering.

                As it should have.

                “What the _hell_ do _you_ know, _Canada-_ you still have your _country!_ ”

                Feliciano looked at the newcomers, confused. Gilbert narrowed his eyes at them; Ludwig grasped just enough presence of mind to start paying attention.

                “You… don’t have your country?” Feliciano asked, feeling sickened.

                Alfred stared at him, seeing him for the first time, and opened his mouth to speak, but it just hung open and it seemed as though all the energy drained from him. He leaned on his brother for support.

                Matthew held his shoulders and took up the task of explaining.

                “He- woke up this morning, and he was alive, and the government is completely intact, and the people are fine, no one mounted an attack and there haven’t been any separatist movements, but-”

                Unease crept up behind his eyes.

                “When he woke up, he couldn’t _feel_ anything. It was like America had disappeared off the face of the Earth, except it was still there and he was in it, in the White House like always. I- I-”

Canada turned to Prussia.

“H-he can’t collapse distance anymore either, I had to bring him here- please, _please,_ Gilbert, no one else-”

Gilbert’s jaw set, and he shook his head.

“I can’t help you,” he told them. “I just don’t have people; I’m still a _Nation._ But- it happened to Ludwig too.”

“What,” Feliciano whispered, the only sound in the room.

Prussia looked over at him briefly, expression unreadable; and Veneziano forced himself to stand up. He felt shaky, but he couldn’t tell if he was actually trembling or not, and his steps were steady enough to take him to Ludwig’s side and cradle him tentatively.

Ludwig closed his eyes and leaned against him. Feliciano was having a hard time thinking around the information that had been dumped on him-

Cut off from land and people.

Loss of ability to collapse distances.

Alfred hadn’t been able to throw off his brother’s restraining hold; America was the strongest Nation physically anyone could ever remember-

Oh God.

No.

_No no no no no-_

“Alfred,” Veneziano said, trying to stay calm. He betrayed himself in the way his grip on Ludwig tightened. “What does it feel like?”

“L-like….”

He trailed off.

“Like the world has ended,” Ludwig finished for him, softly.

Feliciano’s heart twisted and he stroked his love’s hair, trying to reassure him.

“No. No; that’s not what I meant really. Is it-”

He closed his eyes and swallowed- Ludwig was curled in his lap, he was close, he was fine, Feliciano could feel his people and his land and his brother, it was okay-

“Does it feel like… the House?”

Ludwig groped for his hand and caught it. Across the room, Alfred shuddered, and sank to the floor.

“Yeah,” he managed hoarsely. “Yeah. _Just_ like.”

                Canada and Prussia exchanged a silent look; then got to work placing phone calls.

-

                It was a tidy little theory the twelve of them, those who had been in the House, managed to come up with that day.

                They knew that:

A)     The House had been infested by a demon

B)      That demon was apparently especially for their torment

C)      They had managed to get out and rid themselves of the demon

D)     Ludwig and Alfred were experiencing the same effects now, decades later, outside the house

A few select calls later, it had come up that:

A)     The fact that the demon had been on Earth for a decent span of time could possibly, in the Vatican’s opinion, mean that even with the ruins they’d left behind them exorcised, the demon had some small hold on the world still

B)      If the, worked up power enough to cut Ludwig and Alfred off from their countries as it had before demon was still able to act a little on Earth, it was entirely possible that it had, resting up through the decades until now

C)      Or, so Romania believed and the Vatican agreed was more likely given the fact that he’d done an exorcism, the demon had managed to leave behind a long-term curse that was only now taking effect

It was the only theory any of them had to work with in the absence of any other explanation. It was marginally logical, but incredibly depressing- so when Australia, who hadn’t even been on the same _continent_ when the others had been caught again and again in the demon’s trap, called England in a fit of terror the next day to say that _everything is gone **do something,**_ no one was sure if they wanted to be scared that they had no idea what was going on or how to stop it; or relieved that it wasn’t the demon.

Or that at least the demon wasn’t limiting itself to only _them._

-

Two weeks later was the first UN meeting of the new session; and none of them had ever been to a more depressing event.

Ten days was all it had taken.

Ten days for most of the world to suddenly lose everything that made them a Nation; more and more every day, the time between instances deteriorating exponentially.

Germany, moderately better adjusted than he had been before, started the meeting by taking a survey of who could still, in all honesty, call themselves a Nation. He was interrupted twice by people whose names were already down on his list suddenly losing touch with their people back home.

It was hard to keep any conversation going. Any points of business they could have discussed seemed pointless, wasteful, in the wake of the sudden destruction of their most integral parts.

All attempts were abandoned when, halfway through the time allotted for their meeting, Romano froze up completely and ground his teeth, expression hard, as Veneziano clutched himself and shrieked in terror, shunted back into memories of death and helplessness.

Israel burst from her seat and flung her folders and portfolios at the wall five minutes later, screaming in rage in dead languages as paper fluttered to the ground and the world went on without her.

India simply lay his head on the table, in his arms, and shut out all noise by murmuring poetry verses to himself, breath hitching every so often.

The meeting was set to end ten minutes after that, and thirty seconds before time would have been called for them to go accompany their leaders and ambassadors in the assembly chamber, China raised one hand to his chest, closed his eyes, and sighed deeply, sinking down in his seat, as billions of lives and four thousand years of history were shed.

Iran was first to the doors of the assembly and leaned up against them, one hand on the door handle, refusing all offers of help; falling back on her dignity as the only thing she had left.

No Nations entered the assembly chamber; though all their seats were filled by the time the UN President got up to speak.

-

                Yao hadn’t wanted to get up. He had wanted to sit in his chair in the Nations’ meeting room and not move until he died, seeped in the opposing sensations of unbearable heaviness from millennia of existence that he truly felt now, and the terrifying weightlessness of living without the anchor of citizens to prove he _existed,_ and would continue to do so in the next moment, and the one after that.

                He let the UN President’s speech wash over him apathetically, words registering in his brain erratically. She started to touch on the subject of their ‘Nations’ current conditions, and he found enough energy to snort, bitterly imagining her surprise when she returned to her seat to find that her own Nation was no longer that.

                “Be quiet,” the President of the People’s Republic of China ordered.

                “No.”

                It was such a reflex to think now about the men who held that position, no matter what they said- _no, no, no; I hate you; stop making me do these things; my people would be better off with you dead_ \- that it took a moment to  register.

                When it did, the world fell away, going distant and unfocused. He was peripherally aware of his breath becoming shaky, shallow; of his heart stuttering. Yao sat there, waiting, existing, for a timeless eternity; for the controlling, overwhelming force of a direct order to hijack his mind and his body; for it to catch up to what he’d done and twist at his soul for disobeying the one in power over his people, his existence, until he gave in under the unbearable pressure.

                “ _What_ did you say?” the President hissed quietly.

                That voice grabbed his attention- but it made it his focus sharpen, return to his surroundings; not rearrange his train of thought before he could realize what had happened, or immediately bring words of apology to mind.

                Yao blinked a few times, and realized his mouth was full of a clogging wetness. He swallowed, and went back to breathing normally.

                He looked over at the other man.

                “No,” he said loudly.

                A few of the people sitting near them glanced over.

                The President stared at him in shock and a hint of anger for a moment, mouth slightly open.

                “You _have_ to,” he said.

                Yao stood. The sound of his chair scraping across the floor attracted much more attention; and when the UN President stopped talking to look at them in confusion, the rest of the room followed her gaze.

                The Chinese President stood as well, and Yao noticed that the other man was nearly half a head shorter than him. He’d _known_ that before, of course, but now it seemed-

                Possible.

                He cocked his head slightly, considering what to do next.

                “No,” Yao told his former boss. “I don’t.”

                Something strange was happening. The heaviness of ages was gone, the weightlessness was turning quickly into something that reminded Yao of the full-body rush he’d gotten the few times he’d been on a landing airplane. It felt like final approach, like the waiting in the moments before actual touchdown when you could _swear_ that there couldn’t _possibly_ be just those next few centimeters, _surely_ you’d just missed the jolt-

                It was heady, it was anticipatory, _intoxicating-_

                Yao couldn’t stop the smile that crept across his face.

                “Actually,” he said. _“Actually-”_

                He felt giddy, excited; utterly thrilled; energetic, _impulsive-_

_Happy-_

                When had he felt this way before? How long had it been? Eighty years, five hundred, two thousand? He was trying to remember, but his mind just turned up the song of armies on the march, fireworks on New Year’s, the bone-deep thrumming of true, loyal patriotism untainted by fear or despair.

                But this was _his,_ it was _all his;_ the Chinese had nothing to do with it, it wasn’t backwash or a side effect-

                This had to have been how _they_ had felt, then.

                He _understood;_ he _knew_ now how humans could ever feel nothing but simple _joy_ that they were alive; that they lived in this world, that is was _beautiful_ and worth the trouble, great and small, that it could be-

                “I _don’t,_ ” Yao informed the Chinese President gleefully; smile so wide it hurt his face. “I don’t have to do anything you say _ever again._ ”

-

                The translating staff wasn’t covering whatever Yao was saying, so Alfred had been doing his best to pick up on what the words meant for his President; and project his voice for whoever else wanted to hear and translate it for others.

                “-uhhh… don’t have to follow your orders, the same thing that happened to the others happened to me in the meeting- you’re really slow on the uptake?”

                He had to concentrate harder for the next part. Yao’s voice had risen, and he was near shouting now, anger making him harder to follow.

                “I’m _human_ now, _not_ a Nation, _not_ The People’s Republic of China… I’m not yours to _control_ any longer; I can make my _own_ decisions, lead my _own_ life; I-”

                He stopped.

                “Alfred?” the American President asked.

                “I- I- I have… free- _free will_ **_ohmygod-_** ”

                He bent over in his chair, curling up on himself.

                “I- I _do,_ ” he whispered. “I have _free will free speech_ I’m _human_ endowed by their Creator with certain _unalienable rights_ among these are life liberty and the pursuit of happiness land of the _free_ thank you God thank you thank you thank you I really _am_ now-”

                In the background Yao was sticking his former boss with all the insults he could think of, in whatever language that came to mind; but Alfred could do little more than gently cradle this new thought, this idea- the _reality_ of what he was now, what he could do; the miracle that had granted it to him-

                A hand fell on his shoulder.

                “Alfred-”

                He unfolded and wrapped his arms around Arthur’s torso, burying his face in his ribs.

                “Arthur, Arthur; the Constitution, the Declaration, the Bill of Rights and the federal laws and all that stuff I’ve fought for; it _applies_ to me now-”

                “I know,” Arthur said soothingly, hugging him close. He stroked his hair and planted a kiss on his head. “I know. I’m so happy for you.”

                Matthew edged in next to them and was enveloped in the hug.

                “Matt, Matt, isn’t this _amazing-_ ”

                Francis crashed the group hug, slinging an arm around Matthew and Arthur’s shoulders.

                Arthur elbowed him in the side.

                “ _Liberté, égalité, fraternité_ ; hmm?”

                _“Vive la France!”_ he responded enthusiastically; and pecked Matthew on the cheek before grabbing Arthur’s face and kissing him passionately.

                _“Hey!”_

                “I love the _whole world!_ ” Francis exclaimed joyfully, dashing off to spread his excitement. Antonio grabbed him before he got very far.

                “I feel patriotic, but there’s no reason to, and I don’t know what to do with myself!”

                Antonio responded to his kissing much more happily than Arthur.

                “Let’s have a party! We can invite everyone and I’ll get Lovi to bring wine and you can bring calissons and crepes and I’ll make turron and Letje and Sebastian and Ludwig can bring all sorts of chocolate-”

-

                Lovino had to take a minute to let everything sink it.

                When it did, he turned to the Italian Prime Minister, who had flown out especially for this session because of the subject matter, and took a deep, calming breath.

                “You are a lying, corrupt little bastard. You disgust me. I hope you die alone.”

                Then he stood and walked away, dragging his brother along with him. They stood together at the end of the row of seats.

                “You should have spit on him or something,” Feliciano said after a moment.

                Lovino shrugged.                                                                                       

                “He wasn’t worth any more of our time after I told him what we thought of him.”

                Feliciano _hmmm_ ed, and fidgeted, and looked around at the gathering crowd of ex-Nations who had suddenly realized that they didn’t have any official positions in their governments beyond being The Nation, and hadn’t ever had any decision-making power in the _first_ place- so _why_ were they still here?

                Everything _exploded_ out of him suddenly, and he flung himself at his brother, hugging him tightly and bouncing up and down.

                _“Lovino Lovino Lovino Lovino **eeeeeeeeeeeeeee-** ”_

_“Don’t make that sound.”_

                Feliciano tore himself away, beaming, completely unable to contain his energy.

                “Oh wow though Lovino _wow-_ ”

                “Yeah,” Lovino replied. A smile snuck up on his face. “Yeah. _Finally_ some fucking _relief._ ”

                “I-” he whirled around aimlessly, trying to burn energy. “I have to go hug Ludwig you should go see Antonio!”

                Feliciano charged down the steps to the row where Ludwig was, still seated, head in his hands.

                “Lud-”

                He looked up at the other’s voice; and suddenly Feliciano found himself being kissed, hard. He melted into it, and stayed close when Ludwig pulled away.

                “We-”

                Ludwig was smiling, crying; his hands didn’t seem to able to stay still, roaming to touch every part of Feliciano, hands, arms, shoulders, sides, hips, face-

                Feliciano caught Ludwig’s hands against his cheeks, and smiled sweetly back.

                “We don’t have to _worry_ anymore, about what they’ll tell us to do-”

                “Yep!” Feliciano replied brightly, and went in for another kiss; only to shriek in happy surprise as Ludwig picked him up and swung him around, laughing. Feliciano was still giggling when Ludwig turned the movement into picking him up bridal style and gave him the other kiss he wanted.

                He wrapped his arms around Ludwig’s neck and snuggled close as the man carrying him walked up the steps and followed the other ex-Nations out of the assembly chamber to the wide, empty hallway beyond.

                Feliks popped his gum bubble as Kiku quietly congratulated an incredibly smug Yao on the way he’d decked his former boss.

                “So what we all going to like, _do?_ ” he wanted to know, chewing the gum industriously.

                “Expand the horse farm,” Erzsébet said immediately. “I’ve got the time to devote to it now.”

                “Might breed cats,” Sadık shrugged; as Roderich turned to Erzsébet and shyly mentioned that he’d like children.

                “I am leaving Russia,” Ivan declared. “Alfred, what are the property prices in Kansas like?”

                “Ooh, ooh, ooh!” Feliciano said excitedly, raising his hand. “I’m moving in with Ludwig!”

                “How the _hell_ is that any different from _now?_ ”

                “Coaching hockey sounds like a good idea,” Matthew put in.

                “A bookstore…” Arthur mused.

                Alfred pumped his fist in the air.

_“Road trip!”_

“Wilderness guide-”

                “-clothing store-”

                “We can catch human diseases now, the responsible thing is a doctor’s visit-”

                “History professor would be natural-”

                “-get a degree, don’t care _what_ -”

                “-always found monasteries restful; maybe seminary-”

                “Charity work, got to use the fortune for _something-_ ”

                “I’m not even going to _think_ about it right now-”

                “I could start collecting things I guess.”

                “Engineer, could use more-”

                “-social work for ex-convicts.”

                “OB/GYN-”

                “I think I’ll just stay with the government that’s what I _know-_ ”

                “Wow I never realized how few hobbies I had-”

                _“Retire.”_

Timo reached over and took Berwald’s hand.

                “We’re getting married,” he announced.

                “No one could have _ever_ predicted that,” Eiliv told his neighbors dryly.

                “Are we going to have to sit through Roderich and Erzsébet’s again? That one was _long-_ ”

                “Feliciano if you don’t get your shit together and marry that bastard I _swear-_ ”

                “You think Francis might actually settle down?”

                “Getting married actually sounds like a good idea-”

                “Wait a second _how do you even date?_ ”

                “-children?”

                Quiet fell as everyone pondered the future.

                “Well,” Antonio said after a bit. “I say that before we do anything else we have a party.”

                “ _Dude_ I know the _perfect_ place to rent-”

                “Can you get it on short notice?”

                “Let me call the guy-”

-

                That night was the best one any of them had had.


End file.
